don’t tell me to go
please
don’t send me away
oh please
can’t i make you realize?
It’s not my choice:
my arms won’t let you go
my fingers are tangled in your hair
and nothing else in the world is more important
than staying right here right now
and I can’t understand
these words coming from your mouth
telling me it’s time
What is this thing TIME
and why does it command me?
soleilfurieux said,
August 12, 2008 at 3:17 pm
Is this a goodnight poem?
pinksilkjournal said,
August 12, 2008 at 3:20 pm
yes it is. not to mention that time has never made sense to me so I resent it a little.